


The Grand Tourney

by timetripping



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drinking, Fluff, Happy, Multi, Smut, Team Bonding, everyone's mega queer and supportive all the time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 16:03:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3140348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timetripping/pseuds/timetripping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, you know they’re holding a grand tourney in Markham soon! I think we should all go. Inquisition road trip!”</p>
<p>Varric makes good on his promise to ask Ruffles to arrange the trip to Markham for the Grand Tourney. Cassandra is outraged, but Josephine insists Corypheus can wait a little longer, and besides, absolutely everyone who holds power in Thedas will be there, and shouldn't the Inquisition have a presence? Solavellan is strong; Lavellan meets the Ferelden King Alistair, who is much less angry than when she was last taking the mages out of Redcliffe, and gets to know Hawke and his grumpy partner better. </p>
<p>(It's fluffy and a little smutty because dammit I've beat this game twice and companions interacting and falling in love and meeting over Thedas-verse companions is never going to get old to me. Also some of the character tags are for later in the fic. Not everyone happens all at once.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Grand Tourney

Varric had indeed proved true to his word and talked to Josephine. She had been hesitant at first, but when he reminded her that plenty of important people would be there, she insisted the Inquisitor go. In fact, she said, a full group representing the Inquisition should attend.

And so, Sryana found herself trotting down the long road from Skyhold that would eventually take them to Markham. Varric, Blackwall, and Cole all rode together, and Cassandra rode beside her. Solas sat behind her on her mouth. Vivienne and Dorian had spent an unknown amount of money on a fancy litter which they had invited her into, should she wish to “stop being so foolish and indulge in luxury, Cassandra be damned.” The Iron Bull rode with the Chargers, who had all leapt at the chance to take a break from endless drills. Sera was… somewhere. Sryana preferred not to think about it, especially when one of the cartbearers cursed about a loose wheel bearing. Josephine and Leliana flitted around, and finally, an honor guard made up the back and front of the procession.

It was all very tiring. Sryana had gotten used to many shem things, but all the marching still seemed ridiculous. Endlessly putting oneself on display. _Maker, Varric and Blackwall better be satisfied._ They certainly looked happy, explaining in great detail the finer points of jousting to a very attentive Cole. She absently reached down to pat the neck of her red hart as it bellowed, unsettling the mares in front of her. Solas chuckled.

“For such a pretty beast it has quite the voice,” he said, tickling her ear with his breath. She blushed as everyone turned to look for the source of the noise.

“Surely it puts the fear of the gods in all those who stand before me. At least I hope so; there’s got to be some advantage to a mount that has no concept of the element of surprise.” He grinned.

“Mm, well, that’s what big swords and barrier spells are for.” Sryana thought back to when the hart had first arrived at Skyhold. The soldier who held it’s reins was exasperated, and told her it would listen to no command. Master Dennet tried everything before shrugging and giving up, advising her to keep it somewhere it would look pretty, but Sryana had asked to be let into the pen nonetheless. Solas was sitting under a tree nearby, reading. He observed her fruitless attempts at commanding it until finally deigning to come over.

“Lethallin, let me try something,” he asked, and she dismounted, taking a few steps away. “Vira,” he said, and the hart began to trot forward. He looked so pleased with himself that Sryana hoped for a moment the beast would buck, but pushed the impulse down.

 “It responds to Elvhen?” He nodded and dismounted, walking over to her with that smug grin.

“Na serannas, ma nuvenan,” he said, palming her cheek. She rolled her eyes and pulled back.

“Vir na dar,” she retorted and he raised his eyebrows.

“Now, is that something you should say to the person who just tamed your beast?” he chided and she smirked.

“You think you’ve _tamed_ my beast?” she asked with a smile, slipping her hand to his waist.        

“Da’len, please,” he sighed. She stepped closer, locking her hands behind his back and looking up at his face.

It was the first time they had kissed in public. Her heart warmed to think of it now, and even more when she relished they were finally open about their relationship. Furtive kisses and sneaking away had been fun, but it meant more to her to just be with him, like this. She snapped out of her daydreaming when she realized she needed to steer her mount; they were passing over the bridge. A sign emblazoned “MARKHAM” stood proudly by one corner.

“It would seem we are near,” Solas rumbled in her ear.

 -

As they entered the town Lavellan began to take in the splendor of a Tourney. She had been in Shem towns before, both for the Inquisition and with her tribe, but never one this bustling with activity and color and noise. It was almost overwhelming. Solas wrapped his arms around her waist.

“By the Dread Wolf,” she murmured, staring across the makeshift tent city. Solas stiffened behind her. “Something wrong?”

“Mm, no.” He paused. “I just don’t think I’ll be able to dream much while I’m here.” Sryana laughed. Cassandra looked over at them and made a distasteful noise.

“Must you fall all over each other in front of the masses, Inquisitor?” she asked. Sryana gave her a pointed look.

“Oh, we could be _so_ much worse and you know it,” she threatened, grinning. “Remember the last trip to Caer Bronach?” Cassandra scowled and urged her horse to trot a little faster, catching up with Cullen.

“What did we do at Caer Bronach?” Solas mused. Lavellan dipped her head down.

“You don’t remember? In that old tavern…” He made a sudden grunt of acknowledgement.

“ _Oh_. Yes.” His hand gripped her thigh.

Their procession eventually stopped at a large empty patch with the heraldry of the Inquisition stuck in the ground on a pole. Cassandra and Cullen immediately began directing the soldiers to erect the camp and Sryana pulled her mount up to a fence near the outer edge. Solas dismounted first, then helped her down. She breathed in deeply. The air smelled of cooking meat, mud, and sweat, and she wrinkled her nose. Solas straightened his collar; he was wearing the elven robes Sryana had bought for him at the Dalish camp. Of course, when she had given them to him, she may have neglected to mention where she bought them, and he hadn’t asked. Still, the clothes suited him and the ring velvet fabric offset his skin better than the dirty white tunic he was so awfully fond of. She reached out to straighten his animal skull necklace and he smiled appreciatively.

“Ma serannas, da’len.” Together they set out to find where Cassandra was, and to ask if they could help with anything. She shooed them away and instead they drifted into Josephine’s tent.

“Josie, is there anything I ought to be doing right now?” The diplomat looked up, only just noticing them.

“Oh, Inquisitor! There you are. For a second I was wondering if you had escaped along the road…” Her fingers beckoned them over. “Well, there isn’t any official business until this evening, when we will be presenting to King Alistair. A delegate for the Champion was asking for you earlier, however.” Sryana remembered Hawke fondly, although they had parted ways shortly after Adamant. It would be good to check in with him.

“Where can I find him?” Josephine gave her a lot of directions that Sryana promptly forgot, but she thanked her anyway before exiting the tent with Solas.

“Well… I’m going to try to find him. Varric will probably want to go with me as well,” Sryana said and Solas nodded.

“I may take the opportunity to rest a little. It seems it will be a long evening.” He embraced her and then they parted; him toward the rows of tents and Sryana toward the sound of Varric’s voice.

**Author's Note:**

> So, there's some Elvhen in here that I've scrapped together using this dictionary (http://archiveofourown.org/works/359253/chapters/582281) and my own experience with French syntax. It's a lil rough but workable. Also, later on I'll probably mention Solas having hair bc I really feel the concept art of him as black with braids/dreads is cool as hell and how I imagine him. 
> 
> Anyway... it picks up after this chapter. The Inquisition's just gotta get to Markham first. As a side note, no idea where Markham is. I'm just picturing a generic medium sized Fantasy Town (tm) that's in the dominion of Ferelden.


End file.
